


Dance With Me

by Baroness_Blixen



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Dancing!, F/M, Fluff, Jealousy, diana is mentioned, fbi parties, scully is on a date and omg it's not mulder, season 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:15:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23393863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baroness_Blixen/pseuds/Baroness_Blixen
Summary: It's the annual FBI dance party and Scully is on a date - but not with Mulder.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 10
Kudos: 138





	Dance With Me

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the xfficchallenge on tumblr. Prompt: Someone from the XF universe attends a social gathering

It’s taking her longer than she thought it would, finding Mulder. Who knew so many people worked at the Hoover building? Scully apologizes a few times as she makes her way through the crowds, pressing against sweaty bodies. A few eyes follow her and whispers reach her ears in passing, but she never catches more than a few words in between the clinking of glasses, the music, and the chatter. She’s heard it all before anyway. She and Mulder have been gossip fodder for as long as she can remember and tonight is no different. For once, she is aware that’s she’s added to it, arriving not with Mulder but with an actual date. One of the reasons why Mulder is nowhere to be found.

But she knows him well and she knows he’s here. She feels it. When she does find him, he’s in a corner, hiding himself away with a full flute of champagne and his eyes moving about the room dismissively. You can drag Fox Mulder to an FBI party, but you can’t make him pretend he’s enjoying even a second of it.

“Hey there,” she says, smiling softly at him. Approaching him, she feels lightheaded. How much champagne has she had? She stumbles slightly and her hand lands on his bicep to steady herself. “I found you,” she finishes lamely.

“You were looking for me?”

She nods.

“Why? I thought you’re here with what’s his name.”

“You know his name,” she says and Mulder shrugs. “Say it.” She pinches his arm and he glances down at her. Jealousy suits him. A storm rages in his eyes, dark and beautiful. 

“Dan,” he grumbles. “A match made in heaven, huh? Dan and Dana. I bet your brother loves that.”

“Bill doesn’t know about him.”

“Not yet,” Mulder says, looking away. _Not ever_ , Scully thinks. She knows she won’t mention Dan to her brother, or anyone else. She had to confess to her mother when she helped her pick out a dress for tonight. If Mulder only knew how surprised, downright disappointed, her mother was when she realized that he hadn’t asked her to the party. 

She knows Dan from the coffeehouse she and Mulder frequent. They had a few conversations while waiting in line, talking about medicine and working at the hospital. Dan the pediatrician, as Mulder likes to call him, asked her out a few times and she always declined. 

Then, with Diana Fowley orbiting them, and Mulder failing to ask her to the annual FBI dance party, she threw caution to the wind and invited Dan. A moment of weakness, one she’s regretted ever since. 

“You didn’t bring anyone.” It’s not a question.

His eyes bore into hers. “Who would I bring?” Scully can think of a long list of women who would have gladly accompanied him to this party. Hell, she is certain that several women would ditch their date right now to be with Mulder. 

Her hand is still on his arm, somewhat possessively. Taking a good look at him for the first time tonight, she can’t deny that he looks handsome. His suit is expensive; the softness underneath her finger is proof of that. More than that, he’s made an effort with his tie. Mulder always looks good in a suit. Tonight, he looks delicious.

“Shouldn’t you go back to your boyfriend?” Mulder asks her.

She still hasn’t taken her hand off of him. She’s not planning on doing it any time soon. “He’s not my boyfriend. What do you think of my dress, Mulder?” 

Her mother picked it, a hand on her heart, a sigh on her lips, saying how well the midnight blue lace went with her eyes. Then, a moment later, barely above a whisper and with a wink, she promised that “Fox” would love her in it. That was the moment she mentioned Dan and their date, hating to see her mother’s smile falter and crack. 

With the alcohol in her bloodstream, she wants to know if her mother was right. Dan loves her dress, he told her so. But Dan isn’t Mulder. And Mulder is the one who counts. She stares up at him, wonders if her expression looks as desperate as she feels.

Mulder’s eyes leave hers and she watches him look at her. Everywhere his eyes touch, she shudders. Her skin screams out for him to touch her. Not just with his eyes, but with his hands, his fingers, and those luscious lips. Her breath catches as he finishes his journey, swallowing hard. 

When his eyes meet hers again, they’re dark. His pupils are dilated and any other day, Scully would blame it on the alcohol. The flute in his hand is untouched, but there’s no way of knowing if it’s his first or his fifth. But she knows. It’s not the alcohol, it’s her. She’s the cause of his subtle arousal.

“You look nice,” he says, his voice cracking.

“Nice,” she mutters, taking the champagne flute out of Mulder’s hand, their fingers brushing. She considers downing it to give her more courage, then decides that she doesn’t need it. She puts it on the ground, not caring if anyone tips it over. “Dance with me?” She asks, holding out an unsteady hand towards him.

He nods, manages half a smile, and takes her hand into his. She starts walking towards the dance floor but Mulder stops her.

“Here,” he says, his word almost swallowed by the penetrating music. 

“Here?”

He pulls her close and she forgets to breathe for a moment. “I wouldn’t want your boyfriend to get jealous,” he whispers in her ear, his warm, wet lips against the shell of her ear making her shiver.

“He’s not my…,” she trails off when Mulder’s hands circle her waist. They’re pressed against each other and she doubts that anyone watching them could tell them apart. She herself couldn’t guess where he begins, where she ends.

“I like this dress, Scully.” His fingers dig into her hipbones and she bites her lip to stop herself from moaning. “Did you buy it for Dan?”

“No,” she says, feeling brave and letting her hands wander over his back. She feels the strong muscles of his back play under her fingers.

“It’s soft,” he says, marvel in his voice. His fingers caress her, gently brushing over the thin material. “I wish…,” he sighs.

“You wish what?” She asks, holding him closer. Her own hands dip lower, dangerously so. There are so many places she wants to touch. Mulder was right in keeping them here, in keeping this dance to themselves. They would have made a spectacle on the dance floor. She chuckles, imagining it.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, his lips pressed against her temple.

_We are_ , she thinks and smiles. Instead of replying, she holds him closer. “What do you wish, Mulder?”

He doesn’t answer right away. She closes her eyes and lets herself enjoy this moment. She’s in Mulder’s arms, safe and sound. There’s no immediate danger, just her and him. 

“I wish I could feel… the dress is really soft, but…” His touch becomes more insistent and she knows what he wants, without him having to say it. Just like that, his wish becomes hers. “What do you want, Scully?”

“I want to go home,” she says and Mulder stiffens against her. “With you,” she adds before he gets the wrong impression.

“What about Dan?” he asks, pressing himself against her so that she can feel his desire for her.

“Who?” They both chuckle. Mulder leaves a kiss on her temple, moves to her forehead and kisses her there, too. “I never wanted to do this with Dan, Mulder.”

“I know,” he says, surprising her. “I missed my chance, didn’t I? I was angry with Skinner for making us come here and I made you think I didn’t want to take you. Will you grant me a second chance?”

“Second chance granted,” she says, kissing his throat, reveling in the race of his pulse against her lips. “If you get me out of here.”

Mulder stops moving and looks at her. “Well, who’s the little rebel now? Going against Skinner’s orders?”

“I’m not,” she says, beaming at him. “We were here, weren’t we? Let’s go.” Mulder follows her dutifully, never letting go of her hand. She stares at the people, none of which are paying them any attention. The atmosphere is buzzing; it’s warm and sticky, clinging to her skin. 

Mulder’s hand in hers is no longer enough. What if they leave and the magic is gone? What if it’s just this stifling atmosphere of too many bodies in a small space? She drags him to the nearest wall and pushes him against it. Mulder’s expression is laced with confusion and a dash of fear, mostly though, there’s amusement. 

“Just in case,” she mumbles before she presses her lips against his, her tongue seeking his. It’s the best and worst idea she’s ever had. Mulder tastes like all her dreams come true. She doesn’t want to stop kissing him, needs to get better acquainted with his beautiful bottom lip, his tongue, all of it. But this is not the time, and definitely not the place for it. 

“Shit, Scully,” he says when their lips come apart, “what was that?”

“We have a bad track record,” she says, feeling shy, “of doing… that. I didn’t want to risk anything coming between us again.”

“Speaking of,” Mulder says, shielding her with his body, “I see Dan over there. What do you want to do? Explain it to him or… run?” He grins at her. It’s the kind of grin she loves. The one she hopes to see tomorrow morning and every other morning after that.

“Run,” she says and they do.


End file.
